I, through a wasted experience swim in the stick figures of your genitals
and quite frankly, I don't know why I never ****** you
we stained the city shores and the art district
my footprints left behind a tar
I think of you now and miss you hauntingly
the way a soul misses the bed it died on

my eyes read , happy valentine
I don't know why you still contact me
I don't deserve it

days filled with adventure and feet that never stopped
tongues that never halted
hands that kept the beat going
and lips that ceased to be separated

off with his head
my mind cried loud in the nights
and the battle within me began
the tormented tug of mind and the thing that beat in chests

I cant remember the last time I felt guilt
for giving into my lonely ways
until for a minute I thought of you the other day
and the needles starting inflicting their stabs on my
wounds

I miss you.